Count Your Blessings
by ML Miller Breedlove
Summary: Complete. Burdened with the war, Hogan looks for answers.


The T.V. show Hogan's Heroes belonged to Bing Crosby Productions. No ownership of the Hogan's Heroes characters is implied or inferred, and no infringement is intended.

**Count Your Blessings **

Marty Breedlove

The American Colonel sat reading in the dim lighting of his _room,_ a room given to him by his jailers.

"_One nation shall not raise the sword against another_."

The words seared into his eyes. How long would this war continue? How long would he be asked…no ordered to do the despicable? And when had the orders…no longer been necessary?

Robert Hogan looked around the cold gray room he now sat in. Had it only been a year ago he celebrated Thanksgiving in London? A smile slid onto his face, as he remembered sitting in the "Boar's Head" where he was surrounded by Englishmen with their pints and quarts, some in uniform…some not…explaining the meaning of "Thanksgiving"…as he then viewed it. Pilgrims surviving long enough to harvest a crop… in a hostile land.

He flipped through the well worn black book on his lap looking for some understanding…comfort…reason for his being here...reason for his staying…a reason for giving thanks _this _Thanksgiving.

Rob closed his eyes and the smells of autumn filled his heart. He could see, in his mind, the well worn wood floors of his elementary school and the faces of the children he grew up with.

"_Robert Hogan!" _The ghostly voice penetrated his thoughts with a jolt. "_Are you paying attention?"_

"_Yes, ma'am!"_ The freshly spoken words broke through the silence of his wooden _cell_ bringing him back to the present. Truthfully, with the excitement of the holiday just a day away, he hadn't been giving his _full _attention to his teacher. _What was it that was being said?_ Rob stared at the rough wood floor now surrounding his feet as he tried to remember. The smell of autumn and chalk dust disappearing, to be replaced with the smell of rotting wood as it weathered in the German climate. Or…was that the smell of his life rotting away?

_The Mayflower Compact! That's what it was. _The long ago lesson was still locked away in his memory, mainly because, at that time, he had a fascination for the _rough and ready_ lives of those early explorers. Rob stared hard into the past_. …the Mayflower Compact was…the basis for… _He concentrated trying to remember. Finally, he smiled as the lecture revealed itself. _It was the basis for governing our new colony in America. It was to be a land where all would have the freedom to worship God as they chose. And after their first harvest in the fall of 1621, the pilgrims dedicated a day for thanking God for the bounty He had blessed them with…both food and…freedom._

A low ironic laugh escaped his lips. _Well that definitely doesn't apply… now. We certainly aren't blessed with any bounty here_. The brown eyes hardened, dulling the usual glint of defiance. His shoulders slumped with the weight of command.

"What am I doing here? I'm not who I pretend to be…not any longer, anyway." Rob rubbed at his eyes. _When…did taking lives become a way of life? How can I lead these men in a day of thanksgiving, when I see nothing to be thankful for?_

The long ago lesson continued to replay itself in his mind, as the voice of his teacher persisted in reaching out. "_In the late 1700's, during the American Revolution, the Continental Congresses suggested the yearly observance of a day of national thanksgiving." _

Setting his jaw Hogan repeated the phrase, "during the American Revolution…a day of national thanksgiving."

The voice did not stop, but continued speaking in his head. "_In 1863, President Lincoln appointed Thanksgiving Day as a national holiday, giving a Thanksgiving proclamation and that proclamation is still being given to this day."_

Rob ran his hand down his face as he held fast to the knowledge that, even as we Americans warred on our _own_ soil, we continued to give thanks. We gave thanks despite the death of battle and despite the lack of plenty. We gave thanks even though we didn't know if we would succeed. We gave thanks for being able to _see_ a wrong and for having the _courage_ to fight it.

_I wish I could be giving thanks for this war ending, _he thought"What was it St. Paul said?" His fingers frantically searched through the pages of the leather bound book, resting on his lap, for the exact wording. Turning the final page he stopped and read, "Be careful for nothing: but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God." (Phil.4:6)

Rob looked at the bible still in his lap. It was full of such "_thanks giving". _The _Feast of Purim_ a celebration commemorating the Jews overcoming persecution from Haman, the prime minister of King Ahasuerus. The _Feast of Dedication_ a yearly anniversary of the purification of the Temple at Jerusalem after it was desecrated by Antiochus Epiphanes.

"I just wish I knew I was following the right path." the sudden opening of his door surprised him, sending the well worn bible tumbling to the floor.

"Sorry, Colonel," Kinch peered around the corner of the partially opened entry. Seeing Hogan gently lifting the bible from the floor, Kinch continued, "I didn't mean to disturb you, sir, but everyone's waiting for you to say a few words and Louis is threatening to throw the food out if it gets any colder."

Hogan nodded and looked at his watch, "I was just looking for the right words. I didn't realize I had been in here so long. I'll be right out!"

Kinch slowly withdrew, quietly closing the door. Hogan smiled at the mental picture Kinch left behind.

His second in command has had his hands full, he realized. Louis would be hopping from foot to foot trying to contain his impatience with his commanding officer, while Newkirk undoubtedly has been using his slight of hand for a nibble or two. All of which has had poor Carter busy running interference trying to keep the peace. _What was it Carter said earlier? _"Thanksgiving is not a noun – it's a verb. And everyone needs to give thanks!"

Hogan paused and glanced heavenward, appreciating the wisdom of that statement. "I _am_ thankful, Lord. I'm grateful to have these men under my command; I just wish I knew I was doing right by them."

He stood and walked to his desk to lay his bible down, when a passage caught his eye. As he read, his body physically straightened and the weight he felt earlier, began to lighten. With renewed strength, the American Colonel quietly whispered, "Yes, sir!" and left to join his men.

The well worn pages of the Book fluttered as the door closed, but the answer to a Colonel's prayer, remained opened on the table, a silent testimony to the man who had just left. "**_Rejoice evermore. Pray without ceasing. In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you." _**(I Thes. 5:16-18)

Happy _thanks_ giving, everyone!


End file.
